Don't Quit Your Day Job
by Sheller2
Summary: Haven't posted in a long time. Still have some stories to write. Here's another silly little one-shot. I'm still fixated with Walt and Vic and their burgeoning relationship. I guess this story takes place around Season 3 or 4. No bodice-ripping going on here. I don't usually get many comments about my postings, but would certainly enjoy some here.


_**Don't Quit Your Day Job**_

Vic was stretched out on her couch, frowning at the condensation that had formed on the ice pack she was holding. It was starting to drip on her clothes. Feeling annoyed, she flung the pack onto the carpet beside the couch and closed her eyes. Well, one eye anyways. The other one was purple and already swollen shut.

It had _**NOT**_ been a good day. Walt had been stuck at the courthouse for most of the day, following a trial that was important to them. He was also waiting to testify. Vic and Ferg were left holding down the fort. Late in the morning, just as they were starting to entertain thoughts about something for lunch, they received a call out to a house just south of town. It was the kind of call that they all dreaded receiving. It was a domestic dispute, possibly involving children.

But it was ok for the most part, thankfully. It turned out that the dad Ron got a little drunk, made a lot of noise in the house harming no one, but alarming a neighbour who called the cops. The mother and children were fine but Ron was a bit sloppy. As Vic and Ferg were escorting him out of the house, the man grabbed Vic's duty belt to steady himself. She thought he was reaching for her gun. Ferg grew very alarmed, thinking the same thing, and gave Ron, a great shove. Unfortunately during the uncoupling of the sloppy drunk, Vic was pushed headlong into the door jam. She ended up with a bruised cheek and a cut over her eyebrow. She was quite embarrassed about it all. She chided herself for not having more situational awareness and a firmer grip on Ron.

"It's ok, Ferg," Vic turned to her junior partner, as she held her shirt sleeve up to her forehead. Ferg looked on in horror.

"Gawd, Vic. I'm so sorry," exclaimed Ferg, who had tightened his grip on Ron, while propelling him towards the Bronco outside. They got the man secured in the Bronco, which they had been free to use with Walt hung up at the courthouse all day. Ferg drove while Vic leaned on the arm rest willing the ache in her head and the bleeding to dissipate.

Ferg was relieved that Vic didn't appear to be angry with him. As if she were reading his mind, she said "Ferg, it's ok. You had to diffuse the situation. It was definitely the right thing to do. I'm ok. Really. Just feeling a bit stupid that I didn't see what was going on and step to the side to give you more room."

"How's your head. It's still bleeding. Might need stitches, Vic."

"Nah. It's just a small cut. You know that head wounds bleed a lot. Let's look at it later, after we get this guy locked up." She patted Ferg's arm to reassure him.

"Hey Ferg. This feels kinda cool doesn't it, you and me driving around in the Bronco." Vic grinned at Ferg, who grinned right back. In spite of his concern for Vic's injury, a part of him had already felt a little bit of joy at the rare chance to drive _**THE SHERIFF**_'s famous Bronco.

Once they had gotten back to the station, they secured their prisoner. He was already subdued and compliant since the alcohol had largely worn off. They decided that if he continued to behave, he would be released later that day on his own recognisance.

Vic, having no real concerns about Ferg being left in charge of the prisoner and the county, left for a quick stop at the hospital. There, the doctor on duty assessed Vic and her injury. A concussion was ruled out. Stitches were not required and Vic was sent home without delay. She gave Ferg a quick update, had a light dinner of leftovers and settled in at home for the night.

Sometime later, the prisoner had been released into his wife's care and Ferg was ready to head home himself. He left several voicemail messages for Walt, updating him on the situation. Ferg was aware that Walt was not quite comfortable with the new voicemail system that had been recently installed, so Ferg left Walt a paper message as well, right on the desk next to Walt's phone. The note instructed Walt to check his voicemail for a detailed message and not to worry after all. Vic had gone home from the hospital and would be fine, the note said.

A very tired Walt appeared back at the station after 6 pm, mainly to pick up the keys to his Bronco so he could go home. He gave a quick glance to the note that Ferg left on his desk. The part about checking voicemail really annoyed him. Walt was not familiar with the previous voicemail system and now had been recently forced to learn yet another system. He balked at it all, and was loathe to haul out the little card from the top desk drawer and figure out how to press a bunch of buttons to get the messages that Ruby used to organize and leave _**RIGHT THERE ON HIS DESK**_ for him. He re-read Ferg's note, hoping it might have summarized the situation for him, thus enabling him to avoid the voicemail system altogether. He fixated on the part about Vic, which he had missed at first glance. What the hell? He panicked.

He immediately called Ferg but it went straight to _**HIS**_ voicemail. That made Walt angry. He couldn't wait so he jumped in the Bronco and sped right over to Vic's house. After the divorce she had managed to secure the house rental for one additional year. Although it was a bit expensive on just her salary, it provided the necessary comfort and stability for her to begin to move onto the next phase of her life. For the most part, she was enjoying her newfound independence and freedom.

Being late fall, it was already quite dark when Walt turned down Vic's street and parked in front of her house. He could see that the front porch light was off. A very faint glow shone through the living room window. Walt knocked gently on the front door but received no response. He knocked more loudly, still with no results. So he decided to see if he could peek around the corner through the patio door. Maybe Vic was really hurt and needed help.

Vic, by this time, was lying outstretched on her couch, feeling a bit sleepy, hoping to find the energy to get herself upstairs to bed. At that exact moment, she was alarmed to hear a scraping noise coming from her patio outside.

"Shit," she said aloud. She thought the noise sounded like one of the lawn chairs was being shifted outside. She moved quickly off the couch, leaving the blanket and her phone behind on the cushion.

Thankfully she had left her gun and badge on the coffee table in front of her. She grabbed her gun and walked silently towards her patio door, which was obscured behind inexpensive vertical blinds.

With one finger, she pushed aside a section of a blind panel to see what or who was on her patio. She was shocked to hear a much louder noise, this time a crashing sound. In the darkness she could just make out a large figure bent over a chair.

Vic flicked the outside light on and showed her gun through the blinds. She opened the door and found Walt huddled over one of her lawn chairs, fumbling with a broken terra cotta flower pot. He had his forefinger in his mouth, apparently nursing a cut from the broken flower pot.

"Jeez, Walt. What the hell ! You scared the shit out of me," Vic hissed, breathing heavily as a result of being frightened.

"Vic. It's me. I was worried about you," Walt mumbled, clearly embarrassed.

"I know it's you, dumb ass. Get in here before I call the cops," Vic said with a hint of fury in her voice. She grabbed Walt's arm and hauled him inside, locking the patio door and shutting out the light.

"What are you doing out there? Most houses have a front door, you know," Vic demanded, now trying to modulate her voice and not sound so angry. She wasn't really angry with Walt, but was annoyed about being scared like that. She could see that he was flustered and thus softened her voice even more.

"Vic. I tried knocking twice. But there was no answer. I heard you got hurt. I just had to see you," Walt confessed. Vic could see that he was upset. She knew there was something burgeoning between them and that Walt cared about her. She could see very well how upset he was and vowed to handle the situation as gently as possible.

"Here, sit down," Vic motioned to her couch. She could see him sucking his finger. "Did you cut yourself?"

"Yeah, it's ok," Walt said, still standing, holding out his forefinger, which had a cut on the side of it. "Oh, it's bleeding again," he offered feebly.

"Hold on," Vic said. "Sit. Stay," she said to Walt, pointing to the couch. Like a dog, Walt sat down and followed orders.

Vic ran to the bathroom and grabbed a couple of bandaids from the messy pile she had left on the counter earlier that evening. It was not the first bandaid she had reached for that day. In the scuffle with the drunk guy, she suffered the cut on her forehead as well as a cut from a sliver in her finger.

In the low light of the living room, Vic gently cleaned the cut on Walt's finger and applied two bandaids. One was not enough to encircle the very large finger. In the subdued light, Walt didn't notice that the bandaids were pink with a _**HELLO KITTY**_ cartoon character on them.

"Thanks, Vic. I'm sorry I broke your flower pot. I was trying to get to the patio door to see inside your living room."

"Oh, so you're a vandal _**AND**_ a peeping tom," Vic said with a smile growing on her face. Although she would not admit it, she was feeling a bit pleased that Walt was concerned about her welfare and now was here in her living room. However, she could see that he was still a little upset.

"Vic, I called you and knocked on the door. I just had to see you. Ferg left me messages but I couldn't get them out of voicemail. I didn't know how you were."

"You couldn't get the messages, or you didn't try to get the messages?" Vic knew he had been struggling lately with the new voicemail system. Not wanting to come across as mean spirited, she leaned forward towards Walt and gently squeezed his arm. "I'm ok, Walt. See," she said as she pushed her hair from her forehead. "It's only a scratch. Got cleared at the hospital. No concussion, no stitches either." She made a mental note to bring the voicemail issue up again later. She would offer to give him a tutorial and help him figure it all out.

"Hey, wanna beer?" she asked, trying to break the tension in the room.

"Yeah. Would love one, Vic."

Vic returned quickly from her tiny kitchen, toting two Rainiers. "Here you go." She gave one to Walt. "Cheers." They clinked their cans of beer together. Vic then noticed that Walt wasn't sporting his heavy coat. He appeared to be shivering slightly. It was well into fall and the nights had grown darker and colder.

"Hey, where's your coat? It's getting cold out there," Vic asked.

"Uh…um…" Walt stammered, again slightly embarrassed. "I guess I left it in the office. I left there in a bit of a hurry," he confessed. He really was shivering now, from being outside without his coat, from being a little bit stressed out about Vic and his ridiculous entrance, and also from the cold beer he was guzzling in his nervous state.

"Here, come here," Vic said soothingly. "You really are cold." She did her best to pull Walt's entire body towards her on the couch. She appreciated his concern and now was concerned about him. She proceeded to wrap him up in the blanket she had been recently curled up in. It was comical - it barely covered Walt's lap and stomach area. Walt tried to gulp his beer to calm his nerves. He was stubborn and initially seemed to resist the blanket.

"_**C...O...M...E…...H...E...R...E**_" Vic said very slowly but forcefully. As best she could, being about half the size of Walt, she drew him to herself, enveloping him in her arms on the couch. "Just hold on, Walt. I'll get you warmed up. You're colder than a frozen burrito." She encouraged him to lean into her shoulder. He seemed to resist at first, but as she rubbed her hand in small, warm circles on his back, he began to warm slightly. He also began to relax. It felt good to be warm again. And this close to Vic. She murmured soothing words as he settled. After some time, he finally let himself relax and he began to feel drowsy. His worries about Vic began to fade.

"Vic…um…I was worried about you," he mumbled into her shoulder, lingering as long as possible. Her hair smelled so good. It smelled of her botanical shampoo and it made him feel funny in the pit of his stomach. And perhaps a bit lower on his body too.

"I know. It's ok. I'm not mad. Um…it was nice of you to come and see me." She continued to rub his back. She shifted slightly, slouching a little more on the couch to make it easier for Walt to sink down further. She could sense that he was getting drowsy. A smile appeared on her face, and she was rather pleased that she had this effect on Walt. She turned her head slightly to put a tiny kiss on his forehead.

So much for Walt's dramatic entrance. He dozed in Vic's arms for about an hour, eventually waking up when Vic started to feel uncomfortable from the weight of him on top of her. As much as she had been enjoying herself, she had to move positions. Walt awoke, momentarily confused. It took him a moment to realize where he was. _**WHERE**_ he was, not only at Vic's house but with his face happily wedged between her luscious breasts. "Mmm," he murmured. "This is nice, Vic. Um…I…hope you don't mind me being on you like this…I mean with you…um…I mean…" he stammered.

"Yup. It was nice. But I gotta move a bit, k."

Walt shifted his weight off Vic and he sat upright. "Thanks, Vic." He smiled at her, feeling slightly awkward about how far he had snuggled into her on the couch.

"Are you warm enough now? Vic teased, knowing full well that he was plenty warm enough.

"Yeah, thanks, Vic. That was nice. But I may still feel a chill comin' on…" They shared another laugh.

"Oh, ya big baby," Vic said with more laughter. Walt laughed too.

He apologized for startling her and breaking the flower pot. "I'll get you a new one."

"Wait, it's not the time of year for that. The garden centers are closing up. Besides, I don't think I'm ready to become a professional gardener just yet. I'm pretty sure that old geranium was already dead," Vic confessed, laughing. "And the pot, well, I got it at a garage sale. It wasn't brand new."

Walt reached over to touch Vic's forehead. Her one eye was puffy and half closed. A purple bruise had formed around the cut on her eyebrow.

"It's ok. Doesn't really hurt much. I mean, I guess if you jabbed your finger at it, it would hurt. But if I don't think about it, it doesn't really hurt that much. I've already iced it a bit. It's only a scratch."

"Ok, I won't jab my finger at it then," Walt laughed again. He grew serious. "Vic. I wish I could have been there. Maybe we could have avoided this."

"It's ok. You had to be at the courthouse. You can't be in three places at once. Things get rough out there, as you know. It was no one's fault. We all know that Ron's a sloppy drunk. And don't think it was something that Ferg did wrong."

Wanting to relieve the tension again, Vic teased Walt about his attempt at prowling and burglary. "Don't quit your day job just yet; maybe you better stick to Sheriffin'. Or you'd better go back to burglar school. Hone your skills a bit. Learn to be more stealthy. Try to avoid flower pots and noisy patio furniture. Gotta wear dark clothing."

They shared a laugh. "I was so worried about you. I just had to come over. I'm sorry," Walt said, repeating himself. "I'm embarrassed. I made a fool of myself out there."

"No. No, you didn't. It wasn't like that. Well, it was, but it's ok. I get it. I understand. I just didn't want you to worry about me, but I see that you did anyways. I guess Ferg thought the messages would get to you. I'm guessin' that you didn't dig the messages out of voicemail?"

"No I didn't. I hate that stupid thing. Vic…I care about you," Walt emphasized. "I just couldn't sit there worrying about you." He reached for Vic's arm and ran his fingers along her wrist and the top of her hand.

They sat there on the couch for a long time. They leaned into each other, sharing the undersized blanket. Their legs were outstretched, feet on the coffee table. Vic's feet hardly reached the front edge of the table while Walt's very long legs enabled his feet to hang over the far edge. They both noticed the big difference in leg length at the same time and wiggled their toes as if to wave at each other, laughing.

It dawned on Vic that Walt was finally showing a crack in his ever-present armour. He had found the courage to reveal some of his true feelings towards her. She was touched by this. "Walt, it's good to see you relax a bit. And it was sweet of you to come see me, even if you _**DID**_ scare me a bit there," Vic teased, giving his side a bump with her shoulder. "This is nice, just hanging out with you," she added.

"Yeah, Vic. It IS nice. Um…uh…I guess I should make a confession to you. Over these past few months it's felt like we've gotten closer to each other. I feel something is there between us. And, uh…I've got feelings for you. I care about you."

Vic could see him struggling to form the words. She waited for him to have his full say. "Vic. I hope I haven't scared you off or anything by this. Um…I mean…I guess I did scare you on the patio, but…what I mean…um…now…um… I mean I hope my words didn't scare you. Did they?" Walt looked at Vic with pleading eyes.

"No, that was nice. Very nice. And sweet. And I could see it wasn't easy for you to get all that out," Vic said softly. She reached for his hand. "I feel the same way." They continued to chat for a while, about how they felt about each other and then they moved on to chat about ordinary topics like their homes and jobs. After a while they both started to get drowsy.

"Walt, I was gettin' real tired when you made your dramatic appearance on my patio. Now I'm exhausted. You look pretty tired now yourself. I'd really like it if you stayed over. I think you're too tired to drive. Will you stay?"

"Um…I am pretty tired. I could grab a few hours on the couch here."

"Um…no, I don't think that will work. You can see that it's not a full sized couch. You're already gettin' a kink in your neck from not being able to stretch out here. Why don't we just sleep in bed?" Vic could see Walt's eyes grow wide. "Relax," she said, touching his arm. "Relax. I'm just suggesting we _**SLEEP SLEEP**_ together." She could see the wheels turning in Walt's head and a small frown line appear on his forehead. "Come on," she grabbed his hand and pulled to lead him upstairs. They were both too tired to argue. "Bathroom's in there," she said at the top of the stairs. She pointed to the small bathroom. "I think there's a spare toothbrush in one of the drawers there. Help yourself to towels."

After a manufactured delay in the bathroom, Walt emerged to find Vic already curled up on her side in bed. It did look enticing after all. And he was very tired. Gingerly he unbuttoned his denim shirt and slid his belt out of his jeans, leaving in a roll on the night stand on the side which he assumed would be for him. Vic pretended to be falling asleep so she would not seem to pose a threat to a somewhat inhibited Walt. She could feel the bed dip as Walt crept into bed beside her.

"Here," she said, turning on her other side to face him. "Come over here. You can pretend we're still on the couch, if you want," she said laughing very quietly. Walt moved slowly towards her and she wrapped her arms around him as best as she could. Her little arms could not entirely encircle his huge torso. But they managed. She started rubbing his back again and he relaxed. Exhaustion took over and they both managed to fall asleep fairly quickly. As they fell into deep slumber their arms untangled a bit, but they slept nestled against each other never quite losing contact.

Hours later, Vic woke from her deep slumber. Walt had really snuggled down in bed, his face quite happily pressed into the space between Vic's breasts, causing him to snore. It was a wonder that he was able to breathe at all, she thought to herself, amused but pleased. Might need a snorkel.

Vic arched her back a bit to ease a muscle ache in her back. Her movement caused Walt to stir from his sleep. He emerged from his nest and looked up at Vic, his hair tussled. "Hi," Vic whispered to him. "Hi yourself," Walt replied with a big grin on his face.

Vic stroked his forehead, sweeping his hair back. She smiled and put her hand on the small web of muscle between her breasts, where Walt had just spent considerable time. "You sure like spending time here with the girls," she said, breaking into a giggle. "Yup," Walt replied, with an even bigger smile.

"Well, knowing how much you've enjoyed yourself there, I'm going to rename this area _**HAPPY VALLEY**_ and set it aside just for your enjoyment." Walt noted the big smile on her face that seemed to match his. "Thanks Vic, I feel honoured."

She laughed. "You're such a guy." All Walt could do was grin at her. All Vic could do was grin back at him. Their faces mirrored each other.

After another round of snuggling, sleeping and waking, Vic woke up to find Walt's hand on her chest, quite relaxed. She could see the pink _**HELLO KITTY**_ bandaid on his forefinger. She hooked her own finger, similarly decked out, onto Walt's, marvelling at the difference in the size of their fingers. Walt's was huge compared to hers. His eyes blinked open at the touch of her finger. "Nice bandaid," Vic said, laughing softly.

Walt peered sleepily at their entwined fingers, a little shocked to see the pink kitten bandage on his finger. He was a bit dismayed at the unmanly adornment, but didn't want to spoil the moment or hurt Vic's feelings.

"You know," Vic said slowly. "This is a magic bandaid. Has to stay in place for at least 24 hours in order for the magic to work."

"Uh…ok…Vic. It's very colourful," was all Walt could come up with. He was enthralled at the thought of the magic continuing with Vic.

They slept again until just past dawn. Their eyes met as they awoke. They both felt warm and refreshed.

Since it was a work day for both of them, they had a quick breakfast of coffee and toast. Much to his relief, Vic offered to give Walt a tutorial in the dreaded voicemail. She mentioned that she could do it in private with no one around to notice. And they could write up a cheat sheet with wording that would help Walt make an easier transition to yet another form of technology.

Walt was feeling very relaxed and relieved by everything. He loved his evening with Vic. They shared a luscious kiss at the door and then Walt left in a hurry to dash home to attend to his horse and squeeze in a quick shower and change of clothing.

Walt was back in the office before 8 am. Ruby arrived not long afterwards. She knocked on his office door as she entered, bearing various reports and forms that required Walt's attention.

"Morning Walter." She looked at his finger. "Whatever is that pink thing on your finger?" she asked with a grin, looking at the bandaid.

"It's magic," quipped Walt wiggling his finger in the air, but offering no elaboration. He smiled to himself, thinking of Vic and her matching finger. He was happy with new memories to cherish of their special time together. He also was looking forward to visiting Happy Valley again soon.


End file.
